


Miles away, forgiveness

by apinkducky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, New York
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-06 23:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5435471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apinkducky/pseuds/apinkducky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was supposed to be the trip to celebrate their second anniversary, and Derek somehow had decided it was the right time, finally, to tell Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miles away, forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This fic was beta-ed by the wonderful [captaintinymite]() and my [cherub](). Thank you guys for all your help :D
> 
> All mistakes are mine.  
> 

Stiles came back from his job at the local library, dropping his bag unceremoniously on the floor and flopping on the kitchen chair as Derek was setting the table.

“Tough day?”

“Oh man, you have no idea.”

Which was interesting, because Stiles loved his job in the library, but once in a while, there were days that tested his patience.

“Did you arrange your days off?”

The change of topic made Stiles smile, bringing along with it warmth in the room. “Yup, yeah, I did. Are you going to tell me what you’re planning or am I going to find out at the last moment?” And then he batted his eyelashes seductively, “Or maybe you want me to _make_ you tell me? Because I got my ways baby.” He wiggled his eyebrows and, even though he did it playfully, Derek swallowed - and maybe he shuddered a little - because he knew what ways and methods Stiles was thinking about.

So, Derek smiled. Playing coy now wouldn’t help, especially because the tickets mentioned their destination. He slid the envelope he was holding on the table’s surface towards Stiles, who opened it all too eagerly. “New York?”

“Yeah. I’ve arranged our accommodation and rented a car.”

“A whole week in New York! Wow man, that’s a great surprise!” Stiles threw his arms around Derek’s neck and the pang of guilt in Derek’s chest was so acute he had to hold his breath. This was supposed to be a good surprise. To be a way to share. And yet, he only felt the familiar weight of unsaid secrets darkening his mood.

A kiss on his cheek made him pull himself together as the embrace ended. Stiles’ deep brown eyes were looking at him, _into_ him, like they always did. It was like a special superpower Stiles had. To look right through him, warm him up from the inside and know; just know when Derek needed a touch, when he ached to talk or not to, when loneliness was threatening to consume him and he needed a presence to anchor him. Stiles knew Derek. And Derek… Derek needed Stiles.

Even if he hadn’t shared everything with him, yet. This was about another wall between them that had to fall, hopefully without taking their relationship down with it. They had been together for five years, married for the past two, and those were the most painful, interesting, and life changing years of his life. This was supposed to be the trip to celebrate their second anniversary, and Derek somehow had decided it was the right time, finally, to tell Stiles. It had been going for so long, he didn’t—

“Are you okay, big guy?”

Big guy. Their height was the same and Stiles had managed to gain some lean muscle over the years, filling up in all the right places. Still, Derek was the big guy. It was okay though. Because Stiles was the strong one.

“I’m okay,” he said swallowing and shaking his head, “Let’s eat and then we can watch that movie you’ve been planning since yesterday.”

A small nod despite the suspicion in his eyes. Stiles was deliberately giving him some distance, knowing that something was off. Two weeks to go. Two weeks to tell him.

“Yup!” he said, popping the “p” in the end. “What are we eating, light of my eyes?”

“Frog legs in lentil soup.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m kidding.”

“And?”

“We’ve got lasagna.”

 

* * *

 

Derek was trying to find his keys in his pockets, as Stiles was jumping up and down next to him in anticipation and cold.

“Come oooon. Comeoncomeoncomeon. I’m frrrrrozen.” His teeth chattered and he trembled all over despite the heavy winter jacket, the beanie and the gloves he was wearing. And three more layers of clothes underneath.

“I could be faster, if you’d hold our luggage while I’m searching for the keys.”

“I c-ccan’t. T-tttoo cold.”

Finally, Derek balanced oddly the luggage on his hand and opened the door to the building. It was like walking through time. Nothing had changed. The narrow hall with the stairs that lead to the upper floors was still covered with that heinous green carpet. The mailboxes on the right side, behind the door were still mostly unused, all the mail piled on the small shelf underneath them. The mirror on the other side had yet to be cleaned.

Yet, it smelled clean. And it was warm; something Stiles was appreciating by slowly pulling his gloves off his long fingers. Derek had admitted early on that Stiles fingers were one of his weaknesses.

“After you.” Stiles made a formal motion for Derek to lead the way and Derek obeyed. Since he had survived those days of anticipation and anxiety that had been slowly building inside him, making him a rack of nerves, and since they were already here, there was no reason to wait anymore. Stiles deserved to know.

Derek led the way with ease to the third floor and the apartment C3. It was the last apartment in the corridor, and the windows were facing the back street that was never noisy. Unlocking, as he willed his hands to not tremble, Derek took a deep breath and entered the apartment.

“It’s warm.” Stiles sniffed audibly. “And it smells… closed.”

“It’s because it’s been closed for the past couple of years.” Derek moved to the living room and opened both windows to the mid. Then, he left Stiles and headed to the other two bedrooms to do the same. Entering his old room was like traveling back to a time where things were in every way worse and, in just one, better. He didn’t stay to look around. 

There was nothing his in there anymore, he had made sure of that. Stopping outside her room, he extended his hand to open the door but in the end he changed his mind. All these years later and he had yet to open the damn door.

He went back to the living room that was linked with the kitchen with a counter. Stiles stood exactly where he had left him. Derek moved past him and stood against the counter. An old habit that hadn’t died along with her.

“Derek.”

“I brought you here because… I’ve been keeping it from you.”

“That you’re having a secret apartment while we’re married?”

“It’s not secret.”

“It is. You never said anything to me about it. Why?”

Derek looked out of the window. He couldn’t see much but he couldn’t meet Stiles’ hurt eyes at that moment. “I didn’t know how. At first… I never intended to stay in Beacon Hills. And then, I bought the loft. Then you and me became... Nothing seemed permanent.”

There was a long pause. Long enough for Derek to think that Stiles couldn’t handle it. To track back his words and realize that everything that had gotten out of his mouth was painful to the man he loved. That he had just called Stiles “nothing permanent” even if they were together for five years, and currently married. He was pitiful.

But he didn’t know how to explain the insecurity that was infesting his guts all those years. The fear that some day he would wake to a Stiles that realized his mistake, that Derek had nothing to offer him and would tell him to fuck off. The irrationality that all this was a dream and, at some point, Derek would wake up in his half burnt house and be alone, with a dead sister and an empty apartment miles away.

And then. Then was that thing that kept poking at the back of his head; that if he let the apartment, then Laura would really be gone. Every part of her. Now that he was there, it seemed ridiculous that her toothbrush or her clothes would be insulted if he threw them away, but he had yet to open the damn door.

He hadn’t even told Cora about it. It was unfair. He knew.

But he couldn’t.

“Derek…”

There it was. Derek mustered all his courage- sure it wasn’t enough, but he did anyway- and turned to face Stiles. Stiles who had been looking at him, those eyes always piercing, always burning inside his soul, always easy to read but now.

“Can I see your room?”

Derek blinked a couple of times and maybe frowned a little in confusion. This reaction wasn’t what he expected. He gave him a nod, and turned around, walking carefully towards his room, ears fixed to Stiles’ steps behind him. The sound of his jacket rustling as he moved was deafening in the silence of the house.

The room was simple. A small bookcase for the books he used when he went back to school. A wardrobe. A desk. The bed under the window. No curtains. The lack of personal stuff and mementos was apparent, but he hadn’t found the courage to buy anything. It hadn’t seemed fair for him to get new stuff when theirs were…

“It’s so much like you.”

Stiles walked around the room with utter disregard of the fact that it was actually empty. He touched the backs of some books in the bookcase and ran his hand over the empty space of where his literary books had once been. Those he had taken with him along with his clothes when he left.

Not the first time.

The second one.

“Derek…” Stiles turned around. His face was serious, emotions leaving deep trails on his forehead, lips tightly pressed together. It was like Stiles was in the middle of an inner fight, or maybe… maybe he was fighting for them. “You have to stop running.” Derek swallowed hard, never taking his eyes off of Stiles. “I know it’s not easy,” Stiles went on, “and we have gone a long way to trust each other. For you to trust me… to talk to me. But Derek, you have to stop running.” Stiles covered the distance between them, touching his cheek ever so softly with those long fingers that knew how to comfort, and love and play, “You have to believe, that I’m never leaving you.” 

Derek hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he exhaled audibly, half relief half surprise. He had passed these last weeks freaking out over a secret and the impact on their relationship and in the end Stiles had seen through him yet again. It shouldn’t surprise him, but it did. 

“I know,” he answered, his soul caught on his throat making the words bigger.

“Do you?” 

“That’s why I brought you here.”

Stiles’ answer was just a nod and a gentle kiss on his nose, before he allowed him space and lied on his bed, looking at the ceiling. “Have you been to her room?”

A shake of his head was all Derek could offer, even if Stiles hadn’t seen him. But Stiles had seen him. He stood up with the same ease he had lied down and extended his hand to him. “Wanna go with me?”

God, did he want to go with him…

Derek grasped his hand like a life jacket, the grip around his own fingers firm, steady, safe.

“Come on.”

It was Stiles who lead the way this time. Stiles who turned the handle and pushed the door gently open. He didn’t go inside, though, waiting for Derek to unfreeze and take the first step. Derek shared a look with him. The man he loved, the most secure presence in his life for years, his anchor, his everything, was looking straight into his eyes promising, like he always did, that he was there.

Derek entered the room. Stiles never let go of his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr]()!


End file.
